


Behind the lies...

by LaVirosa



Category: Football RPF, Football Weekly RPF, National Football League RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaVirosa/pseuds/LaVirosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David is more than annoyed by the way his boyfriend displays himself in public. One day, things get out of hand and Neymar finds himself admitting more than he ever wanted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the lies...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really nervous about posting this. Maybe you'd think it's total crap... 
> 
> BE WARNED: There is some violence (no hitting or anything, more like psychological) and also some sexual content, so don't like, don't read!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I'm not intending to hurt anybody nor destroying anybody's image nor do I claim anything of the following real; it's pure fiction.

Sometimes, I would like nothing more than slap that stupid, arrogant grin off of his face. 

Like that time. 

He was surrounded by some of our fellow teammates, presenting his new so called girlfriend to them. His hand was resting possessively on her behind and the boys were obviously talking about her anatomy.  
It almost goes without saying that she was very pretty, with long, straight hair and was as dumb as a post. I mean who else would just stand there and laugh along while the others are talking about them like they were a car Neymar had just bought and their boobs a new pair of wheels. And of course, Neymar was laughing ever so loudly; his face showing his well-known Neymar smile with his extremely scrunched up eyes. 

I don't get why he wants people to think about him as a shallow-brained pervert when actually, he is the exact opposite.  
Well of course I get why…it's just that it is frustrating for me to accept. It's because he's a damn, freaking coward. I mean what would people think of him if they knew that he didn't care about women at all, but had in fact been sharing his bed with a man for half a year now.  
I never ever expect him to come out. I'm not planning on doing it myself; I'm not suicidal after all. Gay Footballers don't survive. I don't really consider myself gay anyway, because he's the only man I've ever felt attracted to and I know it's the same with him. 

But of course, he has to overdo it with his camouflage. A football-star like him is expected to have that certain kind of image. The young, good-looking one; the one who is all about money, women and his hair. And I know he enjoys it; the attention and the fact that he has that thing over me because..look at my face! I don't have sweet honey eyes and a smile to die for, nor do I have any remarkable ego trip dribbling skills on the field, so nobody is interested in me. And I don't want to have a cover girlfriend. I'm 100% his. 

The worst thing however is, when he talks about me in front of others. Don't lovers, also if nobody knows they are lovers, usually compliment each other in front of their friends? Neymar doesn't. He stays the course without exception, which apparently also involves never complimenting each other in front of friends. Usually, a comment like: "With that hair, he will never get a girlfriend" falls. 

And usually, I wave it aside with a grin or a good counter, if one happens to pop into my mind.

This time, however, I could not forgive him.

I was just stepping closer to the little group, as Neymar caught sight of me. His cheeky smile was still on and I knew he would bring the David will never get a girlfriend-number up again. 

But what he said this time was different. 

More extreme. 

It ended in a: "As he never has a girlfriend, I think David might actually enjoy being fucked by a man. He's kind of the bitch type." 

Bam! 

I turned my back on them in apparent mock sulking to hide my anger, as everybody, including his apparently mute girlfriend, laughed.  
But I knew that Neymar knew exactly what was going on inside of me. He knew exactly that he managed to make me angry!  
And his loud laugh annoyed me even more.  
When I turned around, he grinned cheekily at me. That kid was totally crazy!  
"Neymar. Stop behaving like a little brat." I said and I meant it. I hated everything on him at that moment; even the stupid baseball cap he always wore.  
He just laughed it off and replied: "It's okay David. Being gay isn't a bad thing. If no man wants to do it with you, I might even take pity on you and let you suck me off for practice." 

I exploded. 

I had to stop him right now. I mean what the fucking hell was wrong with him?! Did he even know what he was talking about?

Without further ado, I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him away from the group, saying loudly so that everybody could hear it: "Imma teach you a little lesson, kid. I want nobody in the changing rooms for the next half hour, Neymar is going to get fucked in the ass."  
Loud whistles and insinuating remarks could be heard while I opened the door and pushed the still laughing Neymar (seriously, was he by any chance high?), inside. I didn't head for the changing rooms though; but did a sharp turn to the right, opened a door, then another door and dragged him down the stairs. I wasn't stupid, I knew that his girlfriend or one of our colleagues had taken my threat at least a little bit seriously and was going to check on us in the changing rooms sooner or later. Instead, I now dragged him through a concrete passageway, ignoring his light protests and questions and pushed him into one of the rooms. 

I've been here before and I knew nobody was ever coming down here (because there were a lot of spiders to begin with and isn't there a little bit of a drama queen in every footballer?) except for the caretaker and he usually wasn't working while we were training.  
And Neymars girlfriend would probably hit on Marcelo in the meantime, rather than go looking for him. 

We found ourselves in the room where apparently, all the cleaning equipment was stored. A big hoover stood next to a sink and there were brooms and lots of spare toilet paper, towels, detergents, sponges and much more in a big shelf. One single lightbulb dangled from the concrete ceiling, drenching the room into dim light.

I closed the door and pressed Neymar against it. His brows were a bit furrowed but his eyes were still full of mischief as he was looking up at me and I was gladder than ever that I was taller than him.

"So what's going on with you huh?", I demanded and pulled his baseball cap off his head without really noticing nor knowing why. 

He grinned. "What do you mean?", Neymar replied and stared challengingly into my eyes. 

I snorted. "What I mean? You should see yourself. The way you're showing off in front of your friends and how you're treating that poor girl! And the things you say about me..seriously!" 

Neymar still grinned and tilted his head slightly "Ey that was just joking. Man, David, you of all people should know that I don't really fancy boobs and stuff and that I love you!", he said in his "oh -come-on!"-voice. 

I rolled my eyes. 

"Hell yes I do! God Neymar, I understand that you don't want to tell them about us, but do you have to exaggerate your lies that much, telling them about how you're practically domineering your girlfriend when in real, you're the one getting fucked in the ass. Do you like to get admired by the others that much, that you enjoy going off telling unnecessary lies?" 

Neymar averted his eyes, now looking a lot more serious than just before.

For some reason, I was extremely annoyed by him falling silent just now, when usually, he can't keep his mouth shut, and in my rage, I pushed him down to his knees and snarled:  
"So all of a sudden, you can't talk anymore? How about you showing me who you really are then, Ney. Come on boy, make yourself useful".  
While saying that, I opened my fly in next to no time, freed my dick and slapped it demandingly against his cheek.  
Neymar didn't look at me nor say anything. He just stared kind of absently at the dick in front of him and after I gave his head an impatient little push because he sure took his sweet time to get ready or gather himself or whatever, he obediently started to lick it.  
I let out a low moan at the sensation and stared hungrily down at him.  
"There's a good boy.", I said and smirked as I could see him frown at my comment.  
"See what I meant before? You certainly enjoy that."  
Yeah….he was down on his knees, almost submissively sucking my dick without protest, even though I knew he didn't enjoy giving blowjobs that much. And there he had been talking big to his friends, making him look like the total macho; always the one on top, the one being in control.  
It crossed my mind, that maybe, he just need to be taken to task from time from time and had provoked me on purpose. 

His face from before while talking to his friends came back into my mind; his insolent grin and above all, his remark about me, flooding my body with a new wave of rage and I was suddenly annoyed by the way he sucked me almost lazily slow.  
Before I could stop myself, I had buried my hands in his hair and pushed his head down on my cock, making him deep-throating me.  
A surprised whine, he definitely was ashamed of the moment it left his mouth, could be heard from him. His eyes widened and the quick, fearful, but also offended glance he shot into my direction satisfied me deeply. He gagged around my dick, probably close to vomiting, and put up a fight, but he didn't really have much strength because my dick was literally choking him. I didn't think of letting him go though. 

"As he never has a girlfriend, I think David might actually enjoy being fucked by a man. He's kind of the bitch type." Over and over again, those two sentences rang in my head, almost driving me crazy. How dare he just go around and talk about me like that? 

"Who's the bitch now, huh? How dare you talk about me like this you little fucker!?", I voiced my thoughts as I granted him a three second long break during which he panted heavily for air, before I pushed him down back again, fucking his mouth in a brutal pace. 

I was getting closer and closer to my climax.  
As Neymar seemed to be at the end of his rope, I took pity on him and let go of his hair.  
I pulled out of his mouth and started pumping myself while Neymar slumped, breathing heavily.  
After a few seconds, just as I was really close, he looked up, searching for my eyes. I couldn't really classify the expression in his eyes: hurt, regret, tiredness…but right at that moment, I came all over him, staining his face as well as his jersey. 

For a moment, we stayed like this: Him still on the floor, keeping his eyes down, looking totally beat..physically as well as mentally I presumed, and me, my hand still on my dick, looking down at him. 

And then suddenly, I became aware of what I had done. 

"Shit I'm…Oh my God I'm so sorry!", was all I brought out and a second later, I closed my eyes at how fake it must have sounded.  
Quickly, I closed my fly and took hold of his cheeks, bowing down to him. "Neymar. Oh my God, I…what have I done? I'm so so sorry!", I wiped the white stains from his face with my thumbs. 

His lost eyes were roaming the floor restlessly, obviously avoiding mine, so I squatted down. "Look…I understand that you don't want to talk to me right now. I just…I overreacted, okay. A lot.", I began, but he shook his head and when his eyes finally found mine, I was a little bit taken aback by the almost apologetic look in them.  
"No David, I…", he gulped and I could both hear and see that he was on the verge of tears,  
"I'm the one who should apologize…I don't know why I…I shouldn't have said that thing about you…"  
His eyes wandered off again. 

I slowly shook my head.  
"No Neymar, I had no right doing that to you. I hurt you and …ah, I could kill myself, really!" I grabbed my hair and pulled it, but his hands found mine and gently lead them away from my hair.  
He gave me a small, reassuring smile.  
"You don't have to feel guilty. I provoked you and you're right. I'm really behaving terribly. It's just that I don't know how to deal with all that. Truth is…I'm shitting my pants thinking of us getting caught. And…" his voice cracked and he looked down, showing me his hair from above.  
His hands squeezed mine so hard that I almost cried out.  
A stifled sob could be heard.  
I knew if I hugged him now, he would start bawling his eyes out, but I needed him to talk on, to say what he only told me in those certain special moments like now. So I gave him a few seconds to fight back his tears. 

"And…?", I pressed on, a guilty look on my face. He sniffed but managed to keep it together and raised his head again, looking at me with wet eyes.  
He furrowed his brows, obviously annoyed by his tears and continued:

"It's just that at least in public, I can be the person I always wished to be. I can live the life my father wants me to live." His eyes filled with tears when he said "father" and as soon as he had finished his sentence, he started sobbing again, helplessly shaking his head at his weak moment, and this time, I closed my arms around his slim figure and he snuggled his head gratefully onto my shoulder.  
He trembled heavily and I carefully stroked his hair, whispering reassuringly into his ear. 

I was glad this finally came out. I knew that Neymar still hadn't completely accepted that he was gay himself and hence also felt guilty towards me. And he was right: he was indeed pretending to live his fathers life. His father, who had been a football player on his own but never gained nearly as much fame as his junior, was the happiest man on earth watching his son rolling in money with beautiful women on his side. A world would break down for him if he knew that a big part of what he knew and loved about his son was actually a big, fat lie. He would be a disgrace to the family; a big disappointment and a liar on top of that. And Neymar did everything to prevent that from happening. It was killing him inside and yet, he had kept his pain for himself. 

"I'm so sorry…", he brought out after a while and I shook my head above him. 

"No need to." 

"Yes, I'm such a crybaby." He had stopped sobbing and raised his head. 

I smiled. "You sure are." 

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Thanks for putting up with me.", he said and his honey eyes were full of love. I smiled reassuringly and touched his cheek. 

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo yeah, that was it! 
> 
> First of all thanks for reading!
> 
> I know, it's kind of drawn-out at the end, so sorry about that!  
> Please, please let me know what you think about it, every single comment means a lot to me!


End file.
